


The Horror of the Eternal Night

by 3White_Mage3



Category: The Losers (2010), The Losers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 14:47:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3072053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3White_Mage3/pseuds/3White_Mage3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't just the obvious horror - a sniper for god's sake, blinded. Helpless. Useless for all intents and purposes. It was the eternal night that let in all those demons, the sins of the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Horror of the Eternal Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saral_Hylor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saral_Hylor/gifts).



> Hope you enjoy, darlin'. You love your angst, and here it is.
> 
> (The weird initial caps are on purpose and for effect, by the way.)

Cougar rose up in bed panting and clenching his teeth to keep the screeches -- not even screams like most people would deem a real man would emit, but screeches like a terrified woman -- inside. His teeth hurt from clenching even as he could feel that his eyes were technically wide open and staring. Not that it mattered because even if it had been noon he couldn't see anything beyond those images inside his head. The. Ones. Which. Just. Wouldn't. Stop. The ones which wouldn't give him peace, let him sleep. No matter how hard he prayed.

The images he had refound his faith for in a seemingly failed attempt to find forgiveness. Find forgiveness granted by Whatever Is Out There for sins past. Not forgiveness from those idiots purporting to interpret the Word of God, but from a sincere plea to Whatever truly rules the universe, Whatever it is that governs this fucked up madness which is humankind's making, our own species-wide shit show with all the horrors and the atrocities. The Whatever that oversees the senselessness of it all. The Whatever that does nothing to make any of it better.

Nothing.

Before, when Carlos had had his sight, he had been able to find the beauty in existence, or at least enough good to offset the horrors that his job brought on a too-regular basis. To notice the kind of beauty and peace that had come from watching squirrels play among the tree branches, from the flash of a fish beneath the surface of the lake he and his colleagues were taking a rare moment to relax beside, from the glorious sight which was Jensen's so-innocent, atomic-level smile at some ridiculously innocuous happening like a lady bug finding its way unnoticed up Roque's back. 

Since the flash explosion on a mission gone wrong, however, all he had left were the ghosts and the demons and the memories. With the loss of his sight had come the nonstop questions. The darkness. The demons of deeds past.

Cougar knew he should be grateful that he was alive, that his team had pulled him out. That Jensen, of course, had kept shouting and refusing to go until the sniper was retrieved and thrown onto the evac helicopter along with the documents that Langley was so concerned about but couldn't admit existed. Those fucking pieces of paper for which Cougar had sacrificed so much.

But the same moment he reared gasping into the darkness was the same moment when, as always, Cougar felt the strong arm tighten around his waist and gently, so tenderly, draw him back down to the sheets of the bed. That was when the arm once again, for what seemed like the zillionth time that night, pulled him in tight even as that same man's other hand rustled through his hair in a soothing, repetitive pattern. Arms that held him tightly enough that he could feel the scratch on his back of the chest hairs which signified home and safety and love as the other man whispered loving shushes into his ear. Sounds that from anyone else would have enraged the former sniper, not calmed him, but the nonsensical sounds which allowed Cougar to begin calming his thoughts and stilling his hammering heart. 

They slept naked every night now, not just like they had previously when they were on leave and away from the team. And not for any reasons other than that the full body, skin to skin contact grounded Cougar like nothing else could. The one sensation that kept him safe in the knowledge that Jake was right there, having his back even as the sniper had always covered the tech's back before. Cougar took a moment to send his mental thanks once again for Clay being enough of a man and an officer to understand that having Jake in his bed every night was the only thing that truly kept him sane. The one comfort which meant anything at all, the one thing which allowed Carlos to hold on for one more day in the promise that the doctors would find a way to reverse the damage to his retinas and restore his sight to something at least approaching normal. At least then he would maybe stand a fighting chance again of keeping the demons at bay.

Jake whispered in his ear, "sleep, baby, I'm here. I've got you. I love you. I'm not going anywhere without you. Tomorrow we're going to see that specialist I researched and she's going to give you your sight back. I promise."

And Cougar slept.


End file.
